


Of Fathers and Sons

by Aaveena



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sad, Skywalker Family Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaveena/pseuds/Aaveena
Summary: Han's life with his son, Ben, flashes through his mind during that fateful meeting on the bridge on Starkiller Base.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren & Han Solo
Kudos: 10





	Of Fathers and Sons

In a flash of red light and searing pain that he could not quite feel over the heartbreak that reverberated through his entire being, Han Solo knew that he had failed.

He looked across the walkway at the man whose lightsaber pierced his chest, at the face of the boy he had once known so well.

Han had held this boy once, so small, only minutes old. He had not even been cleaned, still covered in the gore and grime of birth, yet Han had not cared at all. His face was bright red from squalling, and he was the most wonderful thing Han had ever seen in his life. Before holding his child in his arms, he had never known he could feel this way. He loved the boy’s mother, Leia, with all of his heart, he had had his heart broken before many times, but he did not know that his heart could break from loving something so much. His heart had shattered with how much he loved his son and he had cried.

Han had held this boy once, a toddler now, with chubby fists and large dark eyes and a shock of ever-messy black hair. He was screaming, awoken by another nightmare. He held his son close and wished with more ferocity than he ever thought possible that he knew how to bring the boy peace. Leia was always able to soothe the child with such an ease, but Han lacked their special connection. Running his calloused hand through his son’s dark hair, he cooed soft and gentle words to the child, and it was the only time in his life that Han had wished he had the force. He pulled the boy closer to his chest and held him tightly until the terrors that plagued him subsided and he fell asleep once again.

Han had held this boy once, still a small child, his son was sat on his knee in the pilot’s seat of the _Millennium Falcon_. He placed his larger hands over the hands of the boy and showed him where they went, what buttons to press, what switches to flip. Leia would be furious if she found out, not that Han was going to tell her. He wanted, no, he needed to show his son this, he needed to teach him how to fly the way Han’s father, whomever he may have been, had never been able to do. The child giggled in delight as the ship raised from the ground and Han’s heart soared with it.

Han had held this boy once, now ten years old, his eyes rimmed with dark circles and full of pain beyond his years. His son was still troubled by nightmares and terrors. His powers, ones Han could not even begin to understand, grew every day. Things would fly around the room, smashing into the walls when the boy was upset. Han was never angry about this and was never frightened _of_ his son, but he was frightened for him. A darkness hung over the child, it was not something that Han could _sense_ , but he could see it anyway, instinctively, force be damned. _Maybe Luke really could help the kid_ , Han had thought in an attempt to soothe his own frayed nerves and broken heart. Still, when the boy wrenched out of his arms and looked at him with such a mixture of despair and distrust, Han had felt like a failure.

Han had tried to hold this boy once, now a tall, lanky teenager wrapped in tan and brown Jedi robes. Han and Leia had come to see their son at Luke’s temple. The boy had just built his lightsaber and it was a momentous occasion. Han had wrapped his arms around his child, but the boy made no move to return the embrace, his body taking on a certain stiffness. Han pulled away and tried not to show on his face how much it hurt him. His son was a teenager anyway, this was how they all acted wasn’t it?

Han reached his hand out to touch his son’s face, so much like his own, now awash in red light. He looked at the dark eyes which belonged to his mother, at the crooked nose which belonged to Han, at every mole and freckle that Han knew as well as he knew every dent on the _Falcon_.

The man’s eyes were brimming with a darkness and pain that Han had never been able to understand, despite how desperately he had tried to. More than once, Han had wished his son was like the _Falcon_. When the ship wasn’t working, Han had always known what to do, how to fix it – but when it came to his son, he had always been lost.

He wished that he could hold his child close to his chest now, just hold him tightly and rock him until the terrors left his mind as Han had done when his son was young.

Both of their eyes stinging with tears, Ben let Han go.

As Han fell, he knew only two things; he had failed in more ways than one, and that he loved his son so much that it broke his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [@Aaveena1](https://twitter.com/Aaveena1)


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